


the blood is on your tongue as well as your hands

by playthetyrants



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Happy ending though, Harry is disappointed, I'm Sorry, Louis drinks a lot, M/M, although it is a bit ambigious, he just wants to go home again, he's just really sad, idk what else to tag, it's sad, not really alcoholism, this is just a short one shot i came up with, this is present day obviously, very brief mentions of babygate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:09:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6735673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playthetyrants/pseuds/playthetyrants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>having a drinking problem is bad; disappointing the love of your life is even worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the blood is on your tongue as well as your hands

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this after seeing some pictures of Louis in Las Vegas a couple days ago, and this was the end result.  
> story is loosely based off of lyrics found in Antichrist by The 1975.

"well he comes and he goes, so capricious  
and his work appears so rushed  
well I love the house that we live in  
and I love you all too much  
is it the same for you?"

* * *

Years and years flying on planes never made them any more comfortable or easy to sleep in, and anyone who tried to tell you that was lying. Louis had spent the past 5 years flying around on private jets, and was saddened to find they lost their sophisticated demeanors after the first couple months or so. The sheer fact that he had to use a plane so much to get around made Louis’ head hurt, and he found himself knocking another water bottle from Daniel’s hand as he shuffled around in his chair. 

“I’m not thirsty, quit trying to give me that!” he snapped angrily, the sudden volume of his own voice causing a nasty throbbing sensation among his temples. He groaned softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard an all too familiar sigh in response. 

“You drank so much last night, you need this water to start feeling better,” It wasn’t Daniel’s voice talking, but rather Calvin’s strained, frustrated one instead. Louis instinctively clenched his hand into a fist within his lap, his eyes still shut and his body turned away, curled up against the side of the seat. 

“I’m fine, actually. Never been better. I just want to get home.” His voice was icy and cold and honestly, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything at this point. 

He nuzzled his face into the soft fabric of the seat he was sitting on, inhaling its clean scent and trying to get his head to stop fucking spinning, tuning out Calvin’s incessant banter with Daniel across the jet. 

So what if he had thrown up 3 times on the way from a party to the club? So what if he had ignored his bodyguard’s constant reminders to “take it easy on the alcohol, Lou”? So what if he had ended up fleeing the building, choking back tears after he had seen a man who’d resembled his husband back home? And so what if he had started bawling, begging Daniel to get him back to Los Angeles and away from this godforsaken city?

They were right about Vegas’ nickname; Sin City. Louis hadn’t felt this dirty in months. 

The crying had stopped; the headache had not. He yanked off his Adidas cap suddenly, tossing it on the ground across the plane before running his fingers through his hair, sighing in relief as it temporarily relieved the pressure and pain. 

He slowly managed to open one eye after a moment, peering outside the window to his left. They were close; the hour long flight was nearly over and soon he’d be in a car, on his way back to his house, able to sleep and change out of his alcohol soaked clothing and wash the stench of cigarettes from his hair. 

“I still can’t believe you made us leave, Louis.” He blinked suddenly, wincing slightly at the loud voice before turning to face it. Oli was making his way back to his seat, quickly swallowing another shot of some type of strong alcohol before strapping on his seatbelt for landing, refusing to look his friend in the eyes. “That party was sick, we were all having fun. And then you had to go and get shitfaced and cry about going home.” 

Daniel was silent as well as Calvin, messing absentmindedly with his phone in his lap as the pilot began speaking over the speaker. 

“We will be landing in a couple minutes; please put on your seatbelts for your safety.”

Louis stared at him almost blankly, still curled up against the armrest. “I never said you had to follow me.” 

Oli scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. “Oh yeah, sure. I could’ve stayed behind.” Louis frowned at him, pulling himself up to sit. 

“You very well could have! No one made you fucking follow me back to Los Angeles!” Oli glared at him, squinting his eyes before leaning forward slightly.

“You and I both know I don’t have a fucking choice in this. We’re a package deal, wherever you are is where I am. Don’t worry, I’m just as sick of it as you are! I’m sick of this entire thing!” he snapped loudly, sitting back angrily against his chair as Daniel began rubbing his eyes wearily and Calvin scanned Louis’ face closely for a moment. 

Louis kept his gaze upon Oli, staying still for a moment before turning suddenly and grabbing an empty Grey Goose bottle, throwing it with all his might at him. 

Oli screeched and dodged it just in time as Daniel tried to get up suddenly, being restrained back by his seatbelt. Calvin’s eyes widened, fidgeting with his seatbelt before Louis sat up straight, his head absolutely pounding now. 

“You don’t get to talk to me about being sick of this. You have no right! You just follow me around like a fucking puppy and get all the perks of being famous while I have to pretend to be someone I’m not!” He felt nauseous again, his stomach churning unpleasantly as he continued yelling. 

“You don’t fucking get it! You don’t understand what it’s like to be married to someone and barely fucking see them anymore! And when you do, you’re so fucking hungover that all you can do is sleep!” Louis was jerked forward suddenly as the plane’s wheels suddenly landed on the ground, stumbling out of his seat and catching himself on the ground with his hands. 

Oli was absolutely silent now, turning away as Louis couldn’t take it anymore and began gagging all over the ground, coughing up everything that had been in his system, his throat burning with bile and alcohol. It took all his might not to start crying again. 

He barely remembered getting off the plane or getting into the car; his fell back against the leather seats and immediately pressed his warm face against the cold window glass, closing his eyes once more as Daniel got in beside him, mumbling an address to the driver, The car took off and Louis didn’t say a word, kept his mouth shut in fear of throwing up again. He pulled up his hand, using the sleeve of his red flannel shirt to wipe his mouth once more, trying not to think about how bad he probably smelled. Daniel tapped his large fingers against his leg, staring out the window as he did, and Louis suddenly realized he didn’t want to look him in the eye.

It made sense, he supposed; Louis hadn’t been able to look at himself in months. 

Louis swallowed thickly, opening his eyes slowly and staring at the unopened bottle of water his bodyguard was still holding in his hand. He was about to motion to grab it, but somehow Daniel already knew and had it opened and handed over before he could even move. 

Louis somehow managed a couple sips before they arrived at his house, his heart sinking as they did. The sudden prospect of facing his husband in this state of being made him feel awful, and he hastily rubbed at his eyes as Daniel began climbing out of the car, trying to make himself seem at least a bit more presentable. The sun hadn’t come up yet, thank God, but Louis still found himself squinting in the dark as he managed to climb out, Daniel already holding tightly onto his arm. He didn’t say anything, merely clutched onto his bottle and kept his head tilted down, listening to Daniel mutter a thank you to the driver before the car sped off. Louis’ feet crunched rather loudly along the gravel pathway up to the door, Daniel’s sounding even worse. He stayed quiet, counting his steps silently in his head as they kept walking, and then suddenly freezing in place as he heard the front door open. 

“Daniel? Louis?” He felt the sudden urge to throw up once more, his husband’s thick accent swimming in his ears. He felt Daniel’s grip loosen on his arm and suddenly Louis’ eyes were glued to the ground, unable to look up at the man standing in the doorway. 

“Yes, we’re here Harry…” Louis felt himself tighten his grip on his bottle even more, swallowing hard to try and drown out the nauseous feeling that was overtaking him. Daniel’s hand suddenly dropped from his arm and was suddenly replaced with a softer, more gentle one as he stumbled up the steps. 

“Thank you...you’re welcome to stay in one of the guest rooms, as always…” Louis squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out their conversation as he clung tightly onto his husband’s soft, patterned shirt, unable to lift his head up still. He felt like an absolute child, being dropped back off at his home and looking a disgusting mess as Daniel waved a hand in response. 

“Nah, I’m fine. Got a car coming to take me to the Sunset Marquis. But hey...he’s thrown up four times in the past couple of hours. I got him to drink a little bit of water, but he needs way more.” Louis’ cheeks flushed hot in pure embarrassment, listening to these two grown men talk about him this way and felt Harry’s head nod slowly above his. 

“I’ll make sure he’s alright…” he murmured in response, although his voice still seemed icy. Louis heard Daniel’s loud footsteps start down the stairs and back onto the gravel path, getting quieter and quieter as he reached the driveway. 

Harry’s grip suddenly tightened on his arm, turning the both of them around before opening the large front door, pulling them both into the large foyer. 

Louis stumbled forward a bit, trying not to notice the way Harry had pushed him inside, the door shutting rather loudly behind them. It echoed against the tile floor as Louis’ shoes squeaked softly, a deafening silence surrounding them.

“Really, Louis? Again?” Louis winced at his husband’s voice, loud and cold and just...disappointed. He took a deep breath before finally starting to lift his head up, meeting his eyes slowly. 

Harry had his arms crossed against his chest, his hair a curly mess and his clothes wrinkled from sleep. He had on a long, brightly patterned t-shirt and boxers on, his feet bare against the cold floor below him. Louis began clenching and unclenching his free hand, his fingernails digging into his palms as he did. Harry merely stared at him, his face expressionless but his eyes a bit pained. 

“Drink that water. The whole bottle. Right now.” Louis bit his lip nervously, his blood running cold when he realized how dangerous Harry’s voice sounded. Slowly he began to untwist the cap, looking down and trying to get his hand to stop shaking before bringing it to his lips, taking a small gulp. He pulled his hand back down, looking up as Harry raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. 

“I’m not kidding. Drink it all right now, in front of me.” Louis felt his shoulders sink, the thought of having to force himself to drink all this water making him feel automatically sick. Harry kept his eyes locked on his, the intensity growing as Louis reluctantly brought the drink back to his lips, swallowing it down is quickly as he could, which was probably still too slow for Harry. 

He sighed shakily, bringing the now empty bottle back down and screwing the cap back on, closing his eyes to subside the horrible pain in his head for a moment. He heard heavy footsteps begin padding along the tiled floor, crossing in front of him on the way to the stairs.

“You smell like shit. Let’s go to the bathroom.” Louis all but whimpered at Harry’s voice, opening his eyes slowly just in time to see his curly hair disappear from on top of the stairs. He swallowed thickly, still holding tightly onto his plastic bottle before making his way slowly to the stairs, gripping the railing with one hand. 

He was halfway up, his head absolutely pounding before Harry appeared at the top again, obviously unamused at how long it was taking him to get up there. Louis kept his gaze down, instead focusing on his own feet, trying to get them to stop swimming in his vision. He vaguely heard footsteps above him before Harry’s hand was wrapped around his arm once more, although not as tightly this time. Louis gratefully grabbed onto his shirt again, making his way back up the stairs. 

Harry didn’t look at him, kept his eyes forward and towards the bathroom as they walked, pushing open the door with his free hand. Louis immediately squinted at the bright lighting, the white porcelain tubs and sinks blinding him. He dropped his head back down, feeling Harry drop his arm immediately. 

“Just...take a shower. Leave your clothes on the floor; I’ll get them washed. Then come to bed, you can sleep…” Harry’s voice was strangely robotic, as if he were reciting something, and Louis suddenly realized he had heard all of this before. He nodded slowly in acknowledgement, feeling Harry pull the empty bottle from his hands before walking from the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

The lighting wasn’t getting any better, and he ambled forward to flip the switch off, the only light coming from the moon outside, He scanned the room slowly for a moment before reaching into his pocket, grabbing a small red cigarette lighter and making his way to a cupboard he knew was full of Harry’s candles. He grabbed an armful, lining them up along the double sinks across from their shower before lighting them all, stepping back to examine his work. 

It brought a gentle, calm feeling to the room; the flames danced elegantly among the white walls, and Louis was finally able to fully open his eyes again. He smiled a bit despite himself, setting his lighter down and beginning to slide off his flannel shirt. 

He was pretty sure it was the eerie candle lighting, but Louis nearly gasped out loud when he finally yanked his shirt off over his head, staring himself down in the mirror across from him. He looked...bad. That was the only way to put it. It was mostly his face: gaunt, tired looking, large circles beneath his eyes and his beard a scruffy mess. He frowned at himself, deciding to turn around and finish undressing with his back to the mirror. 

He kicked his pile of clothes towards the door, the tile floor cold against his bare feet. He shivered slightly, his head still throbbing as he stepped inside the shower, shutting the glass door behind him. He reached forward and pulled on the faucet, immediately yanking it all the way towards the left for the hot water. He wanted it to be scalding, burning hot enough to erase any scent or residue that this fucked up Vegas weekend had left upon him. The steam immediately began filling up the shower, and for a moment he was okay, lathering his hair up with soap and rubbing his scalp gently with his hands. But then suddenly the steam was gathering quickly, making it harder for him to breathe, and he pushed the door open slightly to inhale a gust of cooler air. 

But of course, nothing seemed to be going right for him. The large array of candles he had selected all carried different scents, the remaining smell being a terrible mixture of things like ocean breeze, vanilla, apple cinnamon and mint, causing his head to spin even more. 

Louis quickly shut the door again, coughing loudly as he tried to breathe. He reached forward to shut off the water completely but suddenly he felt his stomach lurch once more, and before he knew it his knees had hit the shower floor, puking up all the water he had managed to drink just a few minutes before. The soap from his shampoo was running into his eyes and he squeezed them shut, still gagging loudly as water kept hitting the floor beneath him. He heard the bathroom door open suddenly, saw the lights turn on from beneath his eyelids and he turned his head away, wiping his spit from his mouth quickly. 

“Louis, Jesus Christ…” A gust of cold air met Louis’ naked and wet body, another shiver running down his spine as he shook his head quickly. 

“I’m fine, I’m sorry...it was all the stupid candles I lit…” He felt the hot water that had been pattering along his back suddenly turn a bit colder, not unpleasant but rather warm. 

“You’re not fine, that’s the fifth time you’ve thrown up...I don’t want to have to explain another case of alcohol poisoning again…” Louis’ stomach dropped at Harry’s words, feeling nothing but pure shame. He quickly turned his head away, wiping the soap from his eyes before pressing one of his palms against the wall, struggling to pull himself back up to stand once more. 

He wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove, exactly; being horribly hungover and dizzy, combined with wet walls and soapy hands wasn’t the best combination for standing up like a normal fucking human being, yet he still tried and failed miserably. His foot slipped from beneath his body weight and he would’ve landed directly onto his elbow had Harry not suddenly grabbed his shoulders, lifting him up mid fall. 

His cheek were burning and he knew he must be bright red at this point. There was absolutely no excuses for this, no sort of talking would explain why he couldn’t even bathe himself and suddenly he realized he was shaking, shivering from the cold air that was still gusting in from the open shower door, despite Harry’s large body in the doorway. Louis brought his arms up to his chest almost defensively, staring pointedly at the shower floor beneath him as Harry kept a firm grip on his elbows, his eyes probably burning holes into the top of his head. 

How silly he must look right now. Wet, shivering, his cheeks sunken in and Louis didn’t even want to think about his torso. Of all the buffets you could find in Vegas, Louis had probably eaten once in the two days he had been there. What was the point, really? All the vodka he had downed gave him the same full feeling. 

He realized after a moment that Harry hadn’t moved from his spot, still gripping into his husband tightly but standing halfway in the shower. His clothes were probably getting soaked, at least the front half. The only sound was the soft trickle of water hitting the floor beneath them, and Louis nearly opened his mouth to speak before Harry piped up.  
“I’ll rinse you off...just hang onto me, I won’t let you fall…” Louis’ head shot up quickly, which wasn’t the smartest thing, as his head began to spin and his stomach churn once more. He barely had time to stutter before he watched Harry step inside, clothes and all, sliding his large arm around Louis’ waist to steady him once more. 

Louis swore it was the soap in his eyes that made him begin to tear up as he slowly began to turn away from Harry as his husband spun him around to easier rinse the shampoo from his hair. He swallowed thickly as he felt the soft touch of his hand on his back, holding him still as he brought down the shower head and began running the water over his scalp. 

He closed his eyes immediately, sighing softly as the warm water ran across his skin, calming his shivering down as it did. He felt Harry’s hand leave his back momentarily before coming up to his head, his fingertips running gently along his scalp to wash out more soap. The easy pressure was somewhat helping the horrible throbbing in his brain and for a couple minutes, things were okay again. He temporarily forgot about the entire situation, about all of the alcohol coursing through his veins and how his fully clothed husband was having to clean him in the shower because he was incapable, and how he was only going to have a day or two to spend with him and he’d probably sleep through the entire thing. 

No, none of that was concerning him. All that mattered, at least while he was underneath that water, was that he was home again. 

Louis blinked his eyes open slowly as he heard the water turn off and felt Harry drop his grip on his waist, letting the shower head fall to hang beside them. He stepped out slowly and Louis pressed his palms against the walls, willing himself not to move so he couldn’t possibly fall. After a moment, he heard Harry step into the shower once again and felt a warm, soft towel enclose his entire body at once. Louis shivered at the contact, immediately bringing his arms back to his chest and grabbing the outer edges of the towel as Harry brought it to wrap around him. His large hands ghosted their way back down onto his hips before slowly bringing him to step out onto the tile again and Louis squinted his eyes once more at the harsh light. 

Harry brought another smaller towel to his head, gently rubbing down his hair to dry it. Louis gritted his teeth, trying to ignore how the pain in his head somehow got worse with the movement, but stayed quiet all the same. 

Louis barely realized they were in the bedroom a few minutes later until Harry sat him down on the edge of the bed, wiping down the water from his legs and feet as he kneeled down in front of him. Louis felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment once more as Harry pulled over a pair of Louis’ boxers, hooking them on over his ankles before sliding them up his calves and thighs. 

“I can get it…” Louis was alarmed at how dead his own voice sounded and he cleared his throat hastily, blinking rapidly before dropping his towel and standing up a bit, pulling on his boxers before sitting back down.

Harry remained silent, making no response as he stood up, setting down a pair of joggers and one of Louis’ own shirts on the bedside. Louis frowned a bit, picking it up slowly before looking up tentatively at the back of Harry’s curly head. 

“I um...can I wear one of your shirts? I usually wear your clothes to bed…” Harry stopped midway of pulling his soaked shirt off his back, pausing with it halfway over his head before yanking it off rather quickly and tossing it on the ground. Louis bit his lip, sinking a bit deeper into the mattress before Harry disappeared into their closet, emerging a few seconds later and throwing a shirt in his direction. 

Louis tried to catch it before it hit his face but, of course, his reflexes were too slow. The stinging on his cheek from the fabric startled him awake, blinking rapidly at where his husband had just been standing. 

Well...he deserved that. He knew he did. 

Louis slowly changed and brought himself up to stand, Harry’s shirt falling down somewhere to his mid thigh before he came back into the room, his curly hair pulled into a bun on the top of his head, with a fresh white shirt on and new boxers. He disappeared once more into their bathroom, Louis listening to him rummage around a cabinet and hearing the faucet turn on momentarily before the light turned off. 

Harry came back in with a large glass of water in one hand and a bottle of Advil in the other, making a curve towards Louis’ side of the bed and setting them down on the bedside table.

“Take 2, and drink this entire glass of water. If you throw it up, you’ll drink some more.” Louis blinked slowly and watched as Harry yanked over a small trashcan, placing it on the floor beside the bed before nodding. 

“Alright…” he murmured, reaching down and unscrewing the cap. Harry scanned him for a moment, as if he were afraid he wouldn’t listen, then turned around and walked back to the other side of the bed, waiting for Louis to finish before shutting off the lights. 

The immediate darkness hurt Louis’ head and his eyes adjusted momentarily before he climbed into bed, almost crying in relief at the soft touch of his own bedspread and Harry’s scent on the pillows. He laid his head down and immediately relaxed, feeling Harry’s body move in beside his own. 

“I’ll probably be gone when you wake up; have to meet about my London trip before I leave in a couple days. Just keep drinking water and sleep…” Louis frowned immediately, staring fixedly at the dark ceiling above him as Harry spoke. He felt him shift beside him, realizing with a sinking feeling that he had turned his back to him. 

He knew he deserved this. He deserved this icy demeanor from his husband and the God awful headache he had. He deserved the nauseating feeling in his stomach and the aching in his entire body. He deserved all of it, and yet he still felt like he was about to burst into tears. 

“Harry...I’m so sorry, I really am…” Oh save it, he thought to himself. You say this every single time it happens. But...it was true. He really was sorry. He absolutely hated himself for letting this happen again. 

He turned his head slightly towards Harry, swallowing thickly when he remained motionless beside him before continuing. 

“I mean it. I...I just can’t help it sometimes.” His voice cracked and God, this was pitiful. He was cringing just listening to himself talk. When had he become such a sad excuse for a man? “I thought I could handle it, and then I just kept drinking and drinking. Everywhere I looked, I saw you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath to will his tears away. He thought he felt Harry stir beside him but ignored it. 

“I went and for once I didn’t have to worry about showing a girl off my arm. I was just with my friends, and it made me genuinely happy. But then I couldn’t help but think...Harry would like this. Harry would make this more fun. Harry could be the one I could show off on my arm.” Louis barely realized he was full on crying until his body shook with a sudden watery gasp, and Harry had definitely moved now. 

Louis could see him from the corner of his eye, his large face coming closer as he turned himself around to face him.

“Louis, don’t…please, not now…” His own voice sounded strained and Louis let out a choked sob, shaking his head quickly. 

“I’m so fucking sick of this! I’m sick of everything!” He jerked his shoulder out of the way as Harry reached out to touch it, the crying only getting worse and worse. “I’m sick of the magazine articles, the fucking staged pap walks! I’m sick of cameras being shoved into my face and people asking me which girl I’m with!” Harry was silent again, watching him solemnly as Louis brought his hands to his face, sniffling loudly. 

“I just...I want to tell them I’m married, you know?! I’m married to my best fucking friend in the world and I want everyone to know that, to know the real me! I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore, and everyone else thinks they know me!” He wasn’t making much sense anymore, just rambling and yet it was sending him into massive sobs, gasping for air between his hands before he felt Harry’s arm wrap around him once more that night. 

“Louis, shhh...darling, I’m right here, please...stop crying…” Harry sounded choked up and Louis mentally added that to his extremely long list of things Harry should hate him for; making him cry. Louis whimpered loudly as Harry pulled his hands down from his face before burying it into his chest, inhaling Harry’s scent as they both began to rock back and forth. 

“I know you’re so tired Louis, believe me, I do…” Harry’s soothing voice rang through Louis’ ears and he curled himself up even closer to his torso, sniffling once more. “I know it’s been long and hard...but look how far you’ve made it. You’re so close, babe...so close…” Harry’s fingers found their way back to Louis’ hair, stroking it softly as he spoke. 

“Things are hard right now...but you’ve been so brave, braver than anyone I know. You can’t tear yourself apart like this anymore...you’re making yourself sick…” Louis closed his eyes slowly, letting out a long, slow breath. He was right, of course. He always was. 

“I’m sorry...it’s not fair to you for me to keep acting like this...you shouldn’t have to take care of me all the time…” Harry kept his mouth shut, merely rubbing his back soothingly in response. “And don’t give me all the credit...you’re the one who made me brave in the first place…” 

Harry huffed sadly, dropping his hand from his hair before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead, pulling him tightly towards his chest. Louis melted into his body, wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist and they just sat there, breathing in each other’s scents and relishing in one another’s mere existence for a while, cherishing the small amount of intimate time they were getting from this. 

Louis’ eyes were already drooping shut before Harry let go, immediately laying him back down to rest on his side of the bed. His head hit the pillow gently before Harry yanked up the covers once more. 

“That meeting can wait...I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise…” Louis hummed softly in response, turning his head slightly without opening his eyes. 

“I love you, Harry…” he breathed, his mind already going fuzzy with sleep. It had easily been two days since he had rested at all. He managed a weak smile as he felt Harry pull him close to his chest, draping his arms protectively around his small body. 

“I love you too, Lou.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! leave comments/kudos if you enjoyed or hated it.  
> love to you all x


End file.
